


A Different Perspective

by DragonHeartStringCore



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-19 12:27:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2388218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonHeartStringCore/pseuds/DragonHeartStringCore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione and Lucius' encounters through her seven years of Hogwarts and their changing understanding of each other and what/who they are. Based on scenes from the films/books plus some new ones I made up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will be part 1 of 2 (unless I get carried away like I did with the last one) and this chapter includes years 1 to 4, mainly taking scenes from the films/books from Hermione's perspective and adding some I made up.
> 
> Thanks very much to my beta Mari681 for helping with this chapter!
> 
> Disclaimer: All the Harry Potter world and characters belong to JK Rowling, WB etc. and I don't own any of it or make any profit from this story.

**Year 1 - Hermione Granger and The Notorious Man**

Hermione was in the library one late afternoon, as had become her routine, when she heard some voices disturbing the precious silence.

"I'm sorry young man, but only those with permission from the headmaster are allowed in the restricted section." The librarian said, her voice raised in an uncharacteristic manner.

"But why?" An all too familiar person questioned irritably. "I just want to take a look."

"You do not have the clearance, Mr Malfoy, and thus shall not be permitted entry." She explained firmly. "If you want to go in you should try and talk to your Head of House."

Draco mumbled something Hermione couldn't quite catch and then said arrogantly."My father will be hearing about this." Which had to be at least the tenth time that year he had said those same words, and it was still only the first term. He then stormed from the library, fortunately not noticing Hermione at her desk as he left. She could do without the tormenting today.

Who was Draco's father anyway? Hermione wondered, and why did it matter if he heard about any of the stupid situations his son got himself into?

Curious, she put aside the large volume on charms that she was reading, and went to find a book on wizarding families. She already knew the Malfoys were an old pureblood family of some note, but was still surprised to find several whole books dedicated to their family. Taking the most recent volume back to her dorm that night she found it to be an unexpectedly captivating and informative read. Apparently the Malfoys had played an interesting role in the muggle history she knew so well.

Theirs' seemed to be a most accomplished family, its members seeming to always be intelligent, cunning, proud - decidedly Slytherin, yes, but she couldn't help but admire them somewhat. It was evident throughout the book that the Malfoy's views on Muggles, not to mention muggleborns, had changed to suit the times. According to history, they had clearly had no problem with them, or working with them, before the wizarding world began to reject them out of fear. Clearly Draco's prejudice was nothing too new then...

Finally, she got to the end of the book and reached a section on a man named Abraxas, presumably Draco's grandfather. He was described as a powerful, vicious and ruthless man, someone who was something of a business tycoon and a more than proficient wizard, a revered man until the first wizarding war. It could not be proved, but the book suggested, albeit very subtly, that Abraxas' sympathies were with Voldemort, funding his cause, helping him to infiltrate the ministry, and many said it was his downfall. His wife, little that was known of her, was rumoured to have died during the war, the circumstances most suspicious. Abraxas had followed not long after his wife, far before his time, from dragonpox, leaving their young son to inherit everything.

Lucius Malfoy.

He had been a student at Hogwarts, Slytherin, prefect, very bright, star chaser, and, by the look of his seventh year school picture in the book, very handsome. Lucius showed great talent in almost everything he attempted, being particularly skilled at potions and duelling, and was said by his professors to have a calm, studious, and serious demeanour. Lucius went on to marry the youngest of the Black sisters, Narcissa. Hermione had read about her before, she was apparently a much more powerful witch than many thought her to be, a master of long distance apparation, not to mention a beautiful woman, an ideal wife for a man such as Lucius.

Lucius followed his father's footsteps into the business and political world, some suggesting he did so with more skill than his father before him, but it was also suggested that he followed Abraxas into more unsavoury things too. He was exonerated from his involvement in the war due to claims of being under the effect of the Imperious curse, something which Hermione doubted was true, and now had a high position in the ministry, his own business empire, and was one of the Hogwarts governors.

Finishing the book, Hermione could perhaps understand why being on Lucius Malfoy's bad side would be somewhat, if not very, daunting, but she found herself more intrigued than afraid of him. Such an interesting man, magnetic, she wanted to know more about him, and could not understand how a man like that had brought Draco up to be as he was.

Yawning, and looking at her clock, Hermione decided she should probably get some sleep, so closed the book and dimmed her wand.

Perhaps one day she'd meet this Lucius Malfoy for herself, find out what he was truly like...

* * *

**Year 2- Hermione Granger and the Curious Stranger**

Hermione had insisted to her parents that they go early to Diagon Alley. She wanted to go to visit Flourish and Blotts before the crowds got there, to have time alone to browse through the books.

So, at 8am, when the doors opened, there she was, ready to search for something special. Her parents had gone to get breakfast, so it meant she would have ample time to look through all of the shelves undisturbed.

Hermione scoured through the rows upon rows of books, marveling at all of them and frustrated that she could not simply buy them all. She had only saved enough to buy five books, well, that weren't strictly academic anyway, it really was torturous.

Hermione had picked out the first four, very happy with her choices, but was currently torn as to which book to get for her fifth.

The shop was completely empty except for her and still she barely registered the bell of the door chiming as it opened, another customer come to browse the shelf next to her.

The smell of cologne suddenly hit her, somehow strong yet subtle at the same time, warm, welcoming, yet cold.

"I would recommend that one." Said the owner of the scent, his voice deep, eloquent, but not patronizing as one may have expected from his words.

He had pointed at one of the books she was holding, 'Origins of the Dark Arts.' Hermione had been intrigued by the old looking book but, after flicking through the pages, had thought it perhaps a little too advanced for her, quite a feat indeed.

"Don't be put off by the subject matter." The man added, clearly noticing her apprehension. "In order to properly understand the dark arts, to defend correctly and proficiently against them, one must have a proper understanding of what they truly are, where they came from."

She looked up at him now, to where he stood at her shoulder. He was tall yet still broad of frame, his features hard, strong, oddly familiar. His hair was long and so very light, to Hermione he looked as if he could have been an angel, if angels were to truly exist of course.

"Thank you." She said, not forgetting her manners. "But it was not the subject which deterred me, more the complexity." She admitted, somewhat embarrassed.

"Ah, but here you see, this is a good thing." He explained, his words surprising her. "If it is a challenge to you, if you truly have to think, to push yourself, you are likely to gain a greater understanding of it."

"I hadn't thought of it like that before." She said, smiling.

"Besides, I can tell that you must be an intelligent young witch, I'm sure it will not provide you with too greater challenge. If only my son shared your enthusiasm for books..."

"Don't worry, I'm sure he will come around eventually." She found herself reassuring him, this man she'd only just met but felt as though she already knew. "For some people it just takes one book to get them interested. Here, you should give him this one." She said, handing him one she'd picked out earlier, an autobiography by a wizard who'd gone on a dangerous quest in search of a potions ingredient. It was a fairly easy yet riveting read, delving into the protagonists inner struggles as he tried to fight the darkness within himself, the one he needed the potion to cure, and Hermione had yet to meet anyone who hadn't enjoyed it.

"I couldn't possibly." He insisted. "That edition is rather rare and I don't wish to deprive you of it."

"No, really, please do." She smiled. "I've actually already read it and I'm sure your son, however old he is, will enjoy it."

The man gently took the book from her hand, inspecting its pages. "Yes, I think he would like it." He concluded after skimming some of it. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Hermione said, spotting her parents waiting for her outside. "Right, I better go and pay for these." She explained, levitating her books to the counter, leaving the man to continue his business.

Once she'd paid for the books and shrunk them down she made her way to the door, pausing as the man called after her. "Thank you again...Sorry, I'm afraid I don't know your name."

"Hermione." She replied, pulling open the door, not missing the way his brow had furrowed when she told him her name. Unperturbed, she continued. "And thank you."

He gave her a curt nod, acknowledging her thanks, but did not tell her his own name, simply disappearing back amongst the shelves.

How curious she thought. He seemed so nice, courteous, interesting, and there was something familiar about him, something that made her feel oddly unsettled.

* * *

The book signing with Lockhart had been fun although Hermione was very glad she had come to the shop earlier when it was a bit more peaceful. She still had one more book to buy, considering she'd given one away to that man, so she was looking over some other titles when she heard Harry's raised voice.

Malfoy was there, the annoying ferret that he was, and seemed to be causing trouble.

That's when she saw him, the man from earlier, but no, it couldn't be.

He was Draco's father?!

She both could and couldn't believe it at the same time. On the one hand, they were both physically similar, although Lucius was far more handsome, but the elder Malfoy had been so refined, polite, and, even though Hermione could see now he was a man who often hid behind a facade, genuine.

He saw her, acknowledged her distantly as if their encounter this morning had not occurred, and it stung her somewhat, more than it should have.

"And you must be Miss Granger." He said, looking to Draco for confirmation, as if he needed it. "Yes, Draco's told me all about you, and your parents..." He trailed off, the insinuation igniting a rage within Hermione that she barely managed to keep subdued. "Muggles are they?" He stated as a question he clearly already knew the answer to.

Getting little reaction from Hermione, Lucius jabbed at the Weasleys but, despite his obvious views on muggleborns, left her mostly unscathed after that, ignoring her until the topic of Voldemort was brought up.

"Fear of a name only increases the fear of the thing itself." She said, her words more for their encounter earlier, the way he changed when he heard her own name. He looked somewhat taken aback and she knew that he saw the double meaning of her words, had the decency not to argue what she said, and Hermione revelled in it.

Hermione was glad now that she hadn't told anyone what had happened that morning though, would have felt foolish to have expressed a fondness, an intrigue, in this man who she was supposed to despise, who no doubt despised her. It would explain his reaction to finding out her name after all...surely Lucius Malfoy wouldn't talk to a muggleborn, especially not the insufferable Miss Granger.

* * *

After a long and difficult year, Hermione had finally recovered from being petrified and was out in the grounds walking, trying to get her strength back. 

She heard raised voices coming from the castle and could have sworn one belonged to Harry so decided to make her way slowly but surely towards the commotion.

Rounding a tree, she crashed straight into someone storming from the building.

"Watch where you're-oh, it's you." Said the man, angrily at first but his voice calming as soon as he recognized her. Lucius.

She hated him, it bubbled inside her whenever she thought of him and what he'd done, what she knew he had just caused to happen to the school, to Ginny, to her...but being with him again she found her rage dissipating.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy." She greeted, managing with a little difficulty to sound somewhat cold.

He nodded in acknowledgement and looked about to continue walking but, after taking a step, he stopped abruptly. "Thank you again, Miss Granger, for that book, I, that is to say, my son, very much enjoyed reading it." He said, his words sounding so truthful that even if Hermione had wanted to call them lies she would have been unable to.

"I'm glad." Was all she replied.

He smiled tightly, as if his muscles were resisting the action. She made to move on but this time he stopped her.

"Miss Granger." He called. "I am pleased to see you have recovered, it would have been a tragedy to have lost you."

Hermione couldn't quite tell if he was mocking her or not. She stared blankly at him and was about to leave once more when Lucius pulled a package out of his pocket.

"I brought this here for Draco, but alas, he did not want it, apparently it didn't look in as good condition as the last one, so here, you can have it." He said, passing what was clearly a book to her. "And don't worry." He added as he began to walk away. "This one is completely safe."

That should have made her angry, there he was almost admitting to what he'd done, but for some reason it didn't, it just made her even more curious about this strange, mysterious man.  
  
Hermione did not open the package until she was up in her dorm alone and was shocked at what she found. It was the book she had given him in the shop, the autobiography, 

She couldn't help but smile.

* * *

**Year 3 - Hermione Granger and the Lost Boy**

Buckbeak had just knocked Draco down, and Hermione's first instinct was to laugh, her second, strangely enough, was to think of Lucius. The situation had 'my father will hear about this' written all over it and she knew that if they didn't get Draco some medical attention immediately, the consequences would be even worse.

Hermione had thought about why the elder Malfoy responded so extremely to things as he did, like how he had behaved with Dumbledore the previous year, and had come to the conclusion that it must have something to do with pride and reputation.

If Lucius, not to mention the Malfoy name and family, was insulted or slighted in any way, and he did not react, he would lose some of his integrity, his authority, and that was something that simply could not happen to him. The Malfoy name had been held in high regard in the wizarding world for centuries and it was on Lucius' shoulders to maintain that. Of course, if he was more pleasant, if he accepted that most of the time Draco was a little goblin, then maybe people would think far better of him...

* * *

Hermione was struggling a little, believe it or not, with a concept in one of her books 'Origins of the Dark Arts', so had asked Professor Lupin to help her with it. She had wanted to ask someone else about it, someone she expected was far better informed on the subject, but, unsurprisingly, the opportunity had never arisen.

So, one Saturday afternoon, she found herself in the defence against the dark arts classroom, waiting for Remus to arrive, who was uncharacteristically late. Ten minutes passed and Hermione was considering leaving when the door swung open and the professor rushed in.

"Sorry, sorry." He apologised as he dropped a large pile of books onto one of the desks. "I got held up dealing with this whole Buckbeak fiasco."

"What's happening with Buckbeak?" She asked, dreading the answer.

"Draco Malfoy is blowing the whole thing out of proportion." He explained with exasperation. "Next thing you know we'll have Lucius to deal with too."

"Do you know Lucius?" She questioned, sensing from his words that perhaps he did.

"Hm, oh what, yes, sort of." He replied distractedly, laying out the books. "He was a prefect when I joined Hogwarts, wasn't at all how he is now though."

"How so?" Hermione asked, hoping her curiosity didn't seem peculiar.

"Well, he wasn't so hot tempered that's for sure. I don't think he even cared so much about the blood purity issue, not until, well, the war came around." Lupin pondered. "I mean, we all changed during the war, but Lucius, well, I think it changed him more than most, and not for the better."

"But anyway, enough of that, let's see this book then shall we." He said, taking a look through the pages. "This is advanced stuff Hermione, I'm surprised you have it, not to mention that there's only one part you don't understand. Where did you get it?"

"In Florish and Blotts, a frie-, someone recommended it to me." Hermione explained. "They said that if I found it a challenge I was likely to gain a better understanding of it..."

"Ah, well, wise words, wise words indeed..." He mused, an odd look on his face. "I think someone said a very similar thing to me once...regarding a book on advanced potions, but, it can't have been the same person, no..." Lupin trailed off. "Right, let's get on with this then." He finally said, leaving Hermione curious as to who he was talking about.

"Yes, let's." She agreed, pushing the thoughts of the boy Lucius once was to the back of her mind.

* * *

Hermione punched Draco hard.

It was a punch for all the years of insults and torment he had given her, for calling her a mudblood, but most of all it was for Lucius, that is, she wished it were Lucius she was punching instead.

Why did he have to do this? To get Buckbeak killed? He made it so easy for her to hate him, made her feel so awful about almost liking him, having some strange sort of interest in him, and it made her feel foolish, and stupid, and she hated him for it all the more.

Lucius Malfoy, the man she was meant to hate, who she did hate, who she hated herself for liking...

* * *

Lucius Malfoy sat at his desk doing paper work, a most tiring but necessary role he had to attend to, when there was a brisk knock on the door, his son entering before Lucius could say anything. Some may have seen Draco's actions as bold, normal even, but all Lucius saw was a lack of respect. How had he gone so wrong with his son?

"Father." Draco called as he marched into the room, his hand over his face. "You have to do something about that mudblood bitch!" He demanded, revealing his broken, bruised and slightly bleeding nose. "Look at what she did to me!"

Lucius laughed, something he didn't do often, a laugh of exasperation, but also some strange irony, Draco's face dropping in confusion.

"I can't get her killed like that poor hippogriff, can I Draco." He joked darkly. "Perhaps, next time, you will learn to hold your tongue." Lucius warned, guessing his sons brutish ways had lead to the girl accosting him. She may be a muggle born, but at least she had some, well, many, of the redeemable qualities his son, and regrettably many other purebloods, seemed to lack, not that he would ever admit to have thought so of course.

"But father-"

"Enough Draco." He said firmly, standing to his full, not to mention, impressive, height. "I have had to spend enough of my time dealing with the situations you manage to get into, I do not have the desire nor time to do so further for such a trivial matter."

"But she's a mudblood, she shouldn't-"

"I said enough!" Lucius shouted, his anger steadily building. "Your nose can be easily healed, no doubt Miss Granger herself knows the spell." He added, knowing his words would sting Dracos pride. "She may be a muggleborn, yes, and there is a time and place for... dealing with her kind, but that does not excuse your inability to protect yourself or keep your tactless tongue in check. Now leave me, I have a lot to attend to." He said dismissively.

Draco looked about to protest but, grumbling, he left the room, shutting the door just a little too loudly as he left.

Lucius sat back down with a sigh. He tried to tell himself that he would have acted the same with his son if it had been any other mudblood, but perhaps he had been harsher on his son as the assailant in question was Hermione. He was intrigued by the girl, wished his son was more like her, and couldn't help but think Draco deserved what he got. It had been an odious enough task dealing with the hippogriff incident. He'd been fond of the creatures in his youth, even ridden one once, but when a Malfoy is slighted like that in front of so many people he couldn't simply ignore the incident. Lucius would have been happy with the oaf Hagrid being suspended, or the creature relocated, but things had, regrettably, gotten out of hand.

He got back to his paperwork, trying not to think too much on his son or the Granger girl. T

hings were starting to take a darker turn once again in his life and he had to focus on that, try and stop things from going back to how they were all those years ago.

* * *

**Year 4 - Hermione Granger and The Positive Parts of Quidditch**

It was the day of the quidditch world cup and, despite not being a huge fan of the sport, Hermione couldn't stop the atmosphere from exciting her.

It thrilled her to see how diverse the magical world was at times like these, all the different cultures, races, people, here to celebrate and compete together.

The Weasleys and Harry were bounding up the steps ahead of her, shouting and singing the anthems of their favourite sides. Up and up they went, eventually having to stop to catch their breath.

"Bloody hell dad, how far up are we?" Ron complained, straining his neck in an attempt to see how many stairs were left.

"Let's just say you'll be the first to know if it rains." Came a haughty drawl from below them. At first Hermione liked the sound of it, deep, powerful, erotic, familiar. That is to say, liked it until she looked down and put a face to the voice.

"Lucius." Arthur greeted coldly, not forgetting his manners despite his clear hatred for the man.

"We'll be up in the Minister's box." Draco gloated, appearing at his fathers side. "By personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge himself. "

Hermione could feel the boys bristling beside her, having to bite their tongues.

"Now, now, Draco. It is rude to boast." Reprimanded Lucius after a roll of his eyes, obviously exasperated by his sons lack of tact. Hermione smirked at seeing Lucius' frustration, something he clearly noticed and, much to Hermione's surprise, he sent her a sly smile, unseen by the others.

A warmth spread through her at the silent exchange between them, most curiously settling at her core, an ache building seemingly of its own accord. She chastised herself, she should not be reacting to Lucius Malfoy like this. Despite the immaculate way he dressed, his broad shoulders, strong jaw, breathtaking hair and clear high level of intelligence...

"Come, we don't want to be late." Said Lucius, urging Draco forward.

Harry and the Weasleys continued up the stairs ahead of her, muttering to themselves. Hermione however, was slow to move on, loitering as she watched the platinum head of Lucius move through the crowd, people seeming to move apart for him as he did. He turned just before he disappeared out of view, catching her gaze, and, if she was not mistaken, he inclined his head towards her in a nod before carrying on.

Shaking her head slightly and letting out a sigh, Hermione managed to take one step before she heard someone call her name. Her first thought was Lucius, but no, the voice was not anything like his.

She looked down to see Cornelius Fudge waving at her. "Miss Granger." He called again.

"Are you coming?" Ginny asked from above her.

"I'll be five minutes." She said with a tired smile.

Hermione made her way down the steps towards Fudge. "Hello Minister, to what do I owe this pleasure?" She asked, forcing herself to be polite with the imbecile.

"Ah, Miss Granger." He greeted, his chin wobbling in a most unpleasant way. "I've been hearing great things about your work at Hogwarts, great things, and I think it's time we talked."

It was obvious to Hermione that Fudge had decided she'd make a great Ministry employee and was buttering her up for the future, something Dumbledore warned her he might do, and she didn't want to stick around for that.

"We shall have to organise a meeting sometime then." She said, taking a slight step back to make it obvious she wanted to leave.

"Yes, yes, we must." He agreed, oblivious to the social cue. "Actually, how about now? You should come up to the Ministers box with me, we can talk at half-time."

Any other day, even five minutes ago, and Hermione would have declined, gone to sit with her friends, but, before she got the chance to register what she was doing, she found herself saying. "Yes, why not?" The thought of a long haired man seeming to be the only thing occupying her mind.

"Excellent." He boomed. "I'll have my aide notify your friends. Come now, let's get up there, best not be late!"

She followed him through the crowds to the box, hoping her friends wouldn't think her actions too odd. They arrived, and even Hermione could tell that these were the best seats in the house, feeling a little guilty that she was here instead of Harry and Ron.

"Looks like they're letting any old riff raff in." She heard Draco say just that little bit too loud for it to be called subtle.

"Hm, I don't see the Weasleys here." Lucius responded distractedly, seemingly oblivious to who his son was referring to, but Hermione knew he had seen her, had caught her eye as soon as she entered the room.

"Come Hermione, here, take a seat." Cornelius said as he gestured to her the only one available, front row, next to a wizard she could understand people wanting to avoid, Lucius.

She took her seat quietly, thanking Fudge as was due, and sat looking resolutely forward, attempting to ignore the venomous look Draco was no doubt sending her way.

She couldn't ignore HIS presence though, not Lucius, could feel the heat radiating from his body, could smell the cologne she remembered all too well from Flourish and Blotts, and it was almost torture not to even glance at him.

Much to her relief, the match started soon after she arrived and it was easier to focus on the game happening in front of her, the impressive way the teams played. Viktor Krum truly was as impressive as her friend had said he would be, yet still, her mind strayed to the man next to her.

Half time arrived, and thankfully, the Minister seemed far too busy to talk to Hermione, Draco still persistently attempting to get his attention none the less.

"Hello Miss Granger." Said Lucius, finally acknowledging her now that his son was elsewhere.

"Hello Mr Malfoy." She replied, returning his searing gaze.

"Are you enjoying the match?" He asked civilly, as if he knew her, almost as if they were friends.

"More than I normally do." Hermione admitted. "I like to see the magical world like this, it really makes me feel a part of it."

Lucius looked at her, a curious glint in his eye that she couldn't quite place, and it unsettled her slightly.

"Are you?" She asked, trying to move on.

"I suppose, although I'm not particularly interested in who wins."

"Neither am I, it's more the skill of the players I enjoy, the way they move so fluidly through the air." She said as she looked out to the field.

"My sentiments exactly." He agreed, the look in his eyes still not gone, yet she still could not place it.

"I hear Viktor Krum may be coming to Hogwarts this year, I believe he goes to Durmstrang does he not."

"Oh, I didn't know, that would be very nice." She said, smiling ever so slightly, not missing the small furrowing of Lucius brow at her words. "I mean, it would be great to have all the other students there." She added. "To see more of the magical world." And it seemed to appease Lucius somewhat.

He looked about to say something else but suddenly Draco returned, coming to sit back down with a huff, complaining that the Minister was rude for not talking to him. Hermione rolled her eyes and returned her attention once more to the field, somewhat disappointed that her talk with Lucius had been so short, curious about his peculiar reactions to her words. He shifted next to her, turning to face Draco, his leg now brushing against her own, and she couldn't quite bring herself to move it away, it was as if all her feeling was now focused on the small part where they touched.

The second half started not long after, yet Lucius still did not move his leg from her own, seeming content with the fact that it was touching a muggleborn. Hermione tried to ignore it, knew it meant nothing and that it shouldn't be invoking the feelings it was within her, but found it hard none the less. She could feel his eyes on her from time to time, and occasionally would catch them when he was not quick enough to look away, found herself smiling at him, apparently unable to stop the reaction to him.

All too soon, the match ended after a very close chase between the two seekers, Hermione finding herself slightly disappointed that Krum had missed the snitch. Everyone was standing to leave, bustling out of the room, but Lucius waited, blocking her way out. He turned to her, offering her his hand, gloveless she noted. "Goodbye Miss Granger." He said, sounding far less formal than usual. "It was, good, to see you today." He added, knowing Draco was out of earshot.

"Yes, it was." She said, another one of those smiles coming unbidden to her lips, the corner of his own curling up ever so slightly. "Perhaps we will see each other again soon."

His face faltered slightly at her words, but he quickly regained control of his expression. "Perhaps." He said courteously. "Tell me, Miss Granger, are you returning home now?" He asked.

"No, I think we're camping here for the night." She replied, not thinking too much of the question.

"Ah, I feel sorry for you then, the weather is supposed to be atrocious tonight, if I were you I'd head home." Lucius suggested.

"I sort of wish I could." Hermione admitted. "I've never really enjoyed camping all that much, but unfortunately it's not up to me." She said with a shrug.

"Hm." He said, that small frown once again returning to his brow. "Well, I must be on my way now, goodbye again, Miss Granger."

"Goodbye ." She said as she shook his outstretched hand, so warm clasped in her own.

He walked away a few steps but suddenly stopped, turning to her once more. "Miss Granger." He called above the noise. "Stay safe." And with that he left, leaving Hermione confused and, suddenly, very lonely.

* * *

People were screaming and running all around her, spells flying and fires burning.

She was following the Weasleys as they pushed their way through the crowd, trying desperately not to lose the beacons of red hair with all the people jostling around them.

Suddenly she could run no further, her jumper had snagged on something and she was pulled backwards, letting out a cry for it only to be lost in the myriad of voices around her. Using a spell she was able to free herself and relief flooded over her, that was, until she ran around a tent straight into one of the masked assailants.

Hermione stood still, frozen, all sense escaping her. Surely this was it, after all these years doing dangerous things her time was finally up, her luck run out.

The death eater raised his wand, clearly preparing the final blow, but stopped, his head cocking slightly. He leaned in close, his face mere inches from her own, and suddenly she could smell it, him, the scent she could still remember from Flourish and Blotts those few years ago, but no, it couldn't be. Lucius.

"Run." He whispered, turning from her and marching into the frantic hoards.

Hermione ran, ran as fast as she could, until finally she found the Weasleys, huddled in a group far from the mayhem.

"Hermione!" Ron shouted when he spotted her. "Thank Merlin you're ok. What happened? We looked back and suddenly you were gone."

"I got caught on something but when I freed myself I couldn't see you anymore." She explained, not wanting to mention Lucius.

No, not Lucius.

She didn't want to believe it but knew it to be true, had known it ever since second year, but she still found it so hard to accept. He was a death eater, he should despise her, and yet...he'd let her go.

* * *

_The Yule ball._

Why did Ron have to ruin everything?

Tonight she had had so much fun, felt happy, beautiful, and he'd managed to take all that away from her with one of his stupid comments.

Tears were falling down her cheeks, she knew they were, and she didn't want people to see her like this. Hermione Granger was stronger than this, wasn't she...

She walked quickly away from the ball, not entirely sure where she was going, until she was outside, away from everyone.

Hermione decided to go and stand out on the bridge, she'd always liked it there, but when she arrived she could see someone else was already standing in the middle, her favourite spot.

She was about to turn and leave when the moon came out from behind a cloud, the light illuminating the figure, his hair shining as it fell down his back, uncharacteristic lose strands covering his face.

Her breath caught. Lucius.

She should run, just as he'd told her to back at the world cup, but she couldn't, no, he was magnetic, and she silently made her way towards him.

He didn't even glance at her when she came to stand next to him, leaning on the railings as she took a deep breath of the fresh air.

"Miss Granger." He greeted, still staring out to the lake.

"Lucius." Hermione replied, finding it hard to call him Malfoy.

They fell into an oddly comfortable silence, simply taking in the moonlit scenery around them, until Hermione started to shiver in the cool night air.

"Here." Said Lucius, giving her his coat. The gesture struck Hermione, he could have just used a warming spell, completely ignored her, but no, he'd offered her his own jacket.

"Thank you." She smiled, draping the long cloak around her shoulders.

"You didn't tell anyone." He stated after a few more seconds of silence.

Hermione did not have to ask what he meant, she knew he referred to their encounter at the world cup, knew she can't have mentioned it to anyone.

"No, I didn't."

"Why are you here, Hermione?" He asked, for the first time using her first name.

She looked away, embarrassed to answer, and, in truth, not entirely sure why she'd even come out onto the bridge in the first place.

"Whoever he is, I'm sure he will regret his error one day." Said Lucius, seeming to already know the answer to his question. "Boys often don't appreciate the value of someone like you until it is far too late and, some day, you will meet a man who is worthy of you."

His words warmed her, restored and exceeded the happiness she had felt earlier that evening, but found herself thinking 'but I'll never find anyone quite like you...'

"Why are you here, Lucius?" She asked back, not knowing how to respond to his words.

"Governors business, and visiting an old friend."

Karkarov, Hermione thought, the old death eater...

"Severus." Lucius corrected her thought. "I never liked Igor." He admitted, surprising her at his openness, freely admitting what he was, what he still is.

"But, as to why I'm on this bridge, I just like it here, the view, the solitude, I often used to come here when I was a student."

Hermione almost laughed at how strange the situation was, how similar this man seemed to herself. Here he was, in her spot, well, his spot, getting away from everything, seeming to forget the man he was these days, the views he held.

"What? " He asked, seeing the peculiar smile on her face.

"Nothing." She said, still smiling. "I just find you to be a very intriguing person, Mr Malfoy."

"And I you." He said, standing and preparing to leave as he noticed some other students approaching the bridge. "I believe that, perhaps, you are the exception." He explained, referring to her muggleborn status.

She did laugh this time, a single dry laugh. Handing him back his coat, she too made to leave, giving him a nod of farewell. As she reached the end of the bridge she turned back to look at him, as he was doing to her at the other end and said. "Perhaps, Lucius, I am the rule."

And walked away smiling, leaving Lucius once more, alone, on the other side of the bridge, a great rift between them again.

* * *

**Well, hope you liked it. Part 2 (years 5-7) might take me a few weeks to write but I have them planned so perhaps a little less.**


	2. Year 5-7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here it is, part 2 (years 5-7). Not sure I'm entirely happy with it on account of having very little canon to draw from, but, hopefully it still works. Epilogue might not agree with everyone, so feel free to pretend it never happened if you don't like it.
> 
> Thanks to my beta Mari681 for working on this chapter so quickly!

 

**Year 5 - Hermione Granger and the Shining Knight in Black Armour.**

Mudbloods.

To him, sometimes, they sometimes seemed to not even be human. No, no, that wasn't right. They were human, and that was exactly the problem. They were men, and he was wizard, pure wizard, and surely they did not belong in his world, the wizarding world.

In Lucius' mind, when he pictured mudbloods before, he would see a mass of people, dirty and unruly, trying to change everything about the world he held dear, but something had changed. The first thing image that popped into his head now when he heard or thought 'mudblood' was Hermione. In fact, she almost stopped him from saying the word at all.

She was so very like him in his youth, but happier, her eyes filled with so much more awe and life than he suspected was ever in his own. Suddenly the idea of removing her from his world, the world it was so clear she adored, worked so very hard to stay a part of, began to seem impossibly cruel.

'But was it just Hermione?' He questioned himself. Was there a Hermione behind every one of those mass of faces he had pictured before, a person who deserved to be there just as much as she?

No, Lucius thought firmly. Hermione was an exception, just as he'd told her on the bridge, an anomaly, truly special. He could not go changing his views now, no, it was far too late, now that  _he_  was back, Lucius was once more trapped, his ability to choose stripped away from him yet again. His family needed to be protected, and he would have to do whatever it took to achieve that.

But part of him felt like he had to protect Hermione as well...

* * *

Harry had seen him, knew Lucius had been there at Voldemort's return, and Hermione acted as if she was as mildly surprised as the rest of them. Harry had known however, like she had back in fourth year, that no one would likely believe him if he told them Lucius was there, and if they did, would they even do anything?

Hermione hated it that Lucius was a death eater, that he so willingly followed Voldemort, the views he must hold. Then again, was he willing? She wondered. At some point it must have been, but perhaps, once you'd said yes, it was a yes for life. She couldn't exactly imagine Voldemort simply waving you on your way and letting you run or swap sides.

Throughout the year, she had thought a great deal about Lucius, well, when she wasn't thinking about all the other multitude of problems they were having this year, what with Umbridge, the DA and her OWLs, she had a lot to think on. He, however, always seeped into her thoughts. Sometimes it was his predicament, as she tried to understand his actions, what he must be doing, the other times were simply of him, the truly complicated man he was.

* * *

Hermione knew they shouldn't have come here, not to the Department of Mysteries, not so late at night, not without bringing one of the Order. So many 'nots', and yet they had.

Tap, tap, tap.

She heard him before she saw him, the sound of his cane echoing through the darkness as he emerged from the shadows before them. Hermione took a sharp intake of breath, perhaps for the notorious woman she saw at Lucius' side, or maybe for the fact that he was truly here. Not her Lucius.

She knew he was a death eater, had no doubts about it since she'd read about him in first year, but there was something different about seeing it for herself, something that seemed to shake her very being.

Lucius caught her eye, his expression seeming to ask so many questions, hold a strange sort of fear.

* * *

Of course she's here.

You knew she would be, knew it was always a possibility, an inevitability.

Why couldn't she stay away? Just this once.

Lucius almost laughed.

That wasn't his Hermione at all.

* * *

"Harry" She called gently, coming to her senses, alerting him to the danger he seemed not yet to have noticed.

Lucius, danger? Surely not to her...

"You know, you should really learn to tell the difference between dreams, and reality." Said Lucius, his gaze now fixed on Harry, but his words still managed to make Hermione flinch, almost the perfect description of how she herself saw him. The question was, which part of Lucius was the dream, which of the men she'd seen him be, the reality.

"I can show you everything." He promised Harry, his eyes catching Hermione's for a split second, his words igniting some strange hope in her that, maybe one day, he would be the man to truly show her everything, allow her to fully understand this world and herself.

Hermione's mind was racing, quickly trying to anticipate the possible scenarios that could unfold, the potential actions they would have to take to stay safe. Lucius, however, kept managing to interrupt her thoughts, how calm he appeared next to Bellatrix' volatile nature, the skilful way he tried to keep the situation under control, prevent it from, getting out of hand.

It did, as always, get out of hand, and soon enough they were surrounded by death eaters running for their lives. Would she ever have a year at Hogwarts that didn't involve her running away from life threatening danger as if she were in an episode of Doctor Who.

She focused, masterfully somehow managing to throw the right spells at the right times in the right directions, that was, until she found herself alone, at a dead end, and, almost expecting it as she turned around, a masked figure blocking her escape.

Hermione cast a stupefy but it was deflected, this one was clearly better than the others, slowly making his way towards her, throwing spells at her she was barely managing to protect herself from. Where were the others? Where was Harry, Ron, Ginny, anyone?

Hermione took a step back, gasping as she hit the cold stone behind her, the death eater laughing perhaps the cruellest laugh she'd ever heard as he raised his wand, the last sound she thought she'd ever hear.

The blow she was expecting, however, never came, and suddenly the death eater fell to the ground before her with a thump.

Hermione had barely registered what had happened before he was there, holding her against the wall. Lucius.

He rested his forehead against her own, his eyes tightly shut as he let out a long exasperated sigh.

"How many times will I have to tell you to run?" He whispered, planting a soft kiss above her brow, so light she wasn't sure whether she had imagined it. "Now go." He ordered as he disappeared into black smoke, soaring away from her.

* * *

She'd ran, just like he'd told her, just like she had back at the world cup, yet here they were, captured again, Rodolphus Lestranges' wand at her neck.

Hermione searched for Lucius' eyes, relieved when they ever so briefly locked with her own, and she hoped he saw just how hard she'd tried to get away, how much it hurt to see him doing this.

* * *

In that moment, he hoped that she could see how sorry he was that he was the one doing this to her. That his actions were so directly causing her pain.

* * *

A burst of white light appeared, a burst of hope. Sirius.

He punched Lucius - not the face! Was her first thought, and she almost laughed aloud at the ridiculousness of it.

All hell broke loose after that, but she managed to find safety amongst some of the others, able to observe the chaos around her.

Lucius was facing Sirius and Harry, the way he battled, his prowess, mesmerising her, and the urge she felt to go to him when he was blasted backwards was so surprisingly strong that she almost, so very almost, did.

* * *

Hermione could not bring herself to read the article, had barely been able to look at the picture plastered on the front covers of the Prophet littering the school.

Seeing Lucius that way was something she wasn't yet able to do.

She didn't want to think about what would happen to him in Azkaban, what punishment his family might receive for his failure, and she didn't mean the social falling the media was probably going on about...

Instead, she packed, occupying her mind with collecting and organising all of her possessions. It was going well until she came to the hoodie she'd been wearing that night, still covered with dirt and just a little bit of blood, who's, she couldn't say. She began folding it when the smell hit her, his smell, the cologne he wore no doubt having rubbed off on her that night.

It wasn't until she caught her reflection in the mirror that she noticed the tear rolling down her cheek.

* * *

**Year 6 - Hermione Granger and The Punished**

For someone locked inside a high security Azkaban cell, Lucius did not feel secure at all.

Of course, he had to deal with dementors on a near daily basis, and it was slowly tearing him apart, despite his efforts to cling to the few threads of sanity that surely remained within him.

It was hard to try and remain who you were however, when you weren't really sure who that was anymore, lost behind so many lies, so many facades and masks.

He felt more vulnerable to the Dark Lord than perhaps ever before. Lucius could take whatever punishment that he would have been dealt for his failure, even if that had been death, but now he was helpless, knew that he would certainly not be the one truly paying for his crimes. No, that would be his family, his son.

* * *

Draco Malfoy.

Harry was suspicious of him, probably with good cause, but Hermione was more concerned than suspicious.

Although it was plausible that Draco had willingly taken up his father's position amongst Voldemort's ranks, Hermione suspected he had no choice in the matter.

She tried hard not to think of Lucius, he was exactly where he deserved to be, being properly punished for his crimes, but sometimes she wondered if the punishment was so much worse than the ones who'd given it to him even realised. Hermione knew few things for certain about Lucius Malfoy, but one thing she was sure about was that, although he may have a strange way of showing it at times, he loved his family above anything else, always trying to protect them.

Surely it must be killing him to be locked away, unable to stop that madman from dragging his son into the darkness, so much deeper than she was sure Draco ever truly wanted to go.

One evening, Hermione was making her way back from the bridge, letting the cool breeze and the silence clear her head of the tumultuous thoughts that seemed to plague her of late, when she heard someone crying.

She turned the corner silently, hidden in the darkness the short winter days created, and saw Draco sitting, hunched, in an alcove, his shoulders shaking as he tried to suppress his sobs.

Hermione had the urge to go and comfort him. Hated or not, she felt the need to take his pain away, for his father's sake, and guessed that whatever was causing him to feel this way was something far beyond his control.

Draco was holding something in his hands, Hermione having to stifle a small gasp when she recognised it, Lucius' cane. It made her heart ache a little to see it, so far from its master.

Hermione flinched when suddenly Draco threw it against the wall in an outburst of rage, falling to his knees next to it when he saw it had cracked. He clumsily tried to fix it, but either didn't know the right spell or perhaps his hand were trembling too much, she could see them shaking all the way from where she stood.

Footsteps could be heard approaching from the other direction, and Draco clearly heard them too, grabbing the cane and hiding it behind a suit of armour before wiping away his tears and heading off into the castle.

Fortunately, the footsteps belonged to Luna on her way back to Ravenclaw, not one of the prefects starting their nightly patrol of the castle, so didn't ask questions when Hermione pretended to be captivated by one of the paintings in the corridor.

"He does look a bit like Viktor, doesn't he?" Luna remarked as she stopped behind Hermione, her head tilted to one side. Always so observational.

"I suppose he does." Hermione agreed, surprised that she hadn't noticed at all.

"Good night Hermione." Luna said with a knowing smile as she continued on her way.

"Goodnight Luna." Hermione called back.

Hermione hadn't thought of Viktor much since he left, they wrote occasionally, and it was nice, but she knew that he was never going to be the man for her, no, not Viktor…

Once she was sure she was alone, she retrieved the cane from behind the statue. The wood felt so smooth in her hands, dark, sturdy, but not too heavy. The top was adorned with an intricate silver snake head, the eyes glistening emeralds, and Hermione couldn't resist the temptation to run her hands over it. It moved slightly as she touched it and she remembered that the cane was in fact not used to aid walking at all, but as a place to store a wand.

Hermione carefully pulled the wand from the cane, wary of how it may might react to her. It was old, she'd read as much, had been in the Malfoy family for generations, and was perhaps the longest wand in history, made from elm with a core just like her own wand, dragon heartstring.

She knew elm tended to work well with people who were very magically dexterous, those who could produce elegant and advanced magic, which went well with the core. Dragon heartstring wands tended to be powerful and worked well with those who were quick to learn. She knew a few people who shared the core with her, there was Viktor, McGonagall, Ollivander himself, Bellatrix Lestrange...and Lucius. She knew the core could bond strongly with it's owner, could be persuaded, although not too easily, towards the dark arts, so she was cautious about handling it, considering it's current owner was a pureblood supremacist...

Curiously, it seemed to hum contently in her fingers, and she knew that if she were to try and perform a spell with it that it was likely to work just as well as her own. She couldn't resist the temptation to test it so, placing the tip gently next to the cracked cane, she performed the spell and at once it was fixed, not a trace that it had ever been broken.

Smiling contently that she'd been able to mend it, not to mention that Lucius' wand had responded to her so well,  _it_ didn't seem to mind that she was muggleborn, she carefully put the two parts back together. She was about to put it back in its hiding place when she had a thought. Getting out her wand, Hermione ingrained some runes into the wood, easily removed with the correct spell, meaning 'be strong', and then returned the cane behind the statue, sure Draco would be coming back for it soon. Runes was Draco's favourite subject, at least she thought it was as he was actually rather good at it, and she hoped he would find it.

She may not have been able to do anything about his tears today, but perhaps she could prevent some tomorrow.

* * *

Hermione finally understood Lucius' punishment.

Voldemort had planned to turn Draco into a murderer, Albus Dumbledore's murderer, one of the worst things someone could do. She was almost grateful that it had been Snape who was the one to deliver the blow...at least he'd saved a young, scared boy from becoming that.

She knew everything had changed when Voldemort returned, then when finally the wizarding world acknowledged it, but now, she knew it would change so much more, be so much worse.

And not just for her side either.

* * *

Lucius heard, of course he'd heard, had broken down when he found out what Draco had done, what Severus had saved him from doing, and he cried out, he screamed, because it was all his fault.

Draco wouldn't have had to go through that if it weren't for him, his cowardice, his weakness.

Lucius had been allowed one comfort in his cell, in amongst the cold, the fear, the torture from the dementors, he had one physical thing that helped him stay with the sane.

A book.

One which his son had read and smiled about, one he himself had read as a child, one his wife had read to their infant boy, although, the copy he now clung to was one a young girl had given to him nearly five years ago.

A story of a man who had darkness inside him, a poison, one which he thought he needed a potion to overcome, but in fact found that all he had ever needed was the strength to rid himself of it. A strength Lucius hoped one day he himself would have.

Sometimes, in the rare silent hours of the night, when the screams subsided long enough to think, he wondered if it were the book that had finally persuaded him to change, or was it the need to save his family, or perhaps, it was Hermione Granger, the muggleborn, that showed him it was all lies.

* * *

**Year 7 - Hermione Granger and The Broken Man**

It was a few days until Fleur and Bill's wedding and Hermione was trying to occupy her mind. She was completely prepared for their journey to find the horcruxes, had had everything ready for well over a week now, so with nothing to do she needed to busy herself before she went mad.

She was currently reading the prophet, which she was sure had been taken over by the other side, but still served as some short mental relief. It wasn't until the second to last page that something finally caught her interest however, all the other pages full of prejudiced, fear-mongering nonsense.

It was a small article, no picture, titled 'Lucius Malfoy Released From Azkaban to be Held Under House Arrest.' It was short and brief, curious considering it should have really been on the front page, and simply said that new evidence had come to light allowing him to be temporarily removed from prison.

Hermione knew that Voldemort had to be behind it and wasn't sure exactly why he'd done it.

Perhaps he needed Lucius' money and could only access it when he was out of Azkaban. Or maybe it was some sort of twisted reward for the relative success of Draco's mission, she supposed he needed to show his followers that those who pleased him would benefit. It even could be so that he could use Lucius again, one of his best fighters, humiliate him perhaps, until he was of no further use.

Each idea seemed to make Hermione shudder, and she knew Lucius would never truly be free until Voldemort was dead and gone.

* * *

Freedom.

That was what the Dark Lord had said he'd so graciously given him.

What a joke. House arrest truly was the correct term for his current situation.

Then again, how would Lucius know what freedom was? Had he ever really been free? Brought up to follow his father's footsteps, be the heir to the Malfoy estate, marry someone to keep your line pure, follow the Dark Lord or die saying no.

Yes, freedom was a foreign concept to Lucius.

At least now he was back in his home, although, it did not feel like his anymore, it felt infected, as if poisoned, but he supposed now he could once again be with his family, try and protect them.

His family...

Draco had yet to look him in the eye. He'd been back almost a week.

Narcissa was strong, so much stronger than he felt right now, and he was grateful she was here for Draco, to help keep her mad sister at bay.

He heard that Hermione was still alive out there somewhere, had still managed to elude capture, and it was perhaps the only thing that gave him the tiniest flicker of hope.

Perhaps one day, Potter would, with Hermione's help, truly free him.

* * *

Lucius had turned to drink.

He currently lived in near constant fear, was forced to watch horrific crimes performed in his sacred house, and it was the only thing that numbed the pain for any reasonable length of time. Not even sleep relieved him, always plagued by nightmares, awoken by screams. Sometimes, like the day Voldemort had taken his wand from him, he even wondered if he would not prefer to be back in his cell in Azkaban...

He had his wand back now though, however, it was cracked, but, thankfully, fixable. Lucius was not skilled enough to do so himself but, somewhat fortunately, they had a great master of all things wand related currently locked in their basement.

So, one particularly quiet evening, Lucius ventured down into the darkness.

"Ollivander." He said loudly, towering over the sleeping man.

He awoke and flinched when he saw Lucius, no doubt expecting to be led to his death, but soon composed himself and stood when he realised there was no imminent danger.

"I need you to fix my wand." Said Lucius, his words sounding half order, half request. He was dubious about handing the man a wand, but knew Ollivander wouldn't get far with it anyway, wouldn't be able to get past the special spell that locked the door.

Ollivander nodded and took the wand, inspecting it.

"I have not seen a wand so old in a while." He seemed to say to himself. "And so many new users of late."

"There has only been one other than myself." Lucius said, confused by the man's words, almost shivering as he thought of the Dark Lord using his families wand.

"By my count there were three other than yourself in the last year or so. The first it worked for but not particularly well, I sense that perhaps it was your son." He mused, and Lucius could not say he was surprised Draco had tried it whilst he had had it, nor that it hadn't responded too well to him.

"The most recent other than yourself brought out great power from it, but, I sense it took a lot of force, the wand resisted being used by that man..."

"And the third?" Lucius asked, having no clue who it could have been, again wanting to move away from the thought of the Dark Lord.

"Hm, it is hard to say." Said Ollivander as he ran his hand over the wand, brow furrowed. "It was only used to perform one spell but the wand responded just as well as it does to you, perhaps even better." He suggested quietly, probably worried his words might provoke Lucius. "But I doubt the person it feels like used it was actually the caster, I must be losing my touch..."

"Who did you think it was?" Lucius questioned rather roughly, growing impatient.

"It feels like, well, Hermione Granger, but no, no, that can't be right..." He mumbled to himself.

Hermione. Lucius couldn't think how she ever would have gotten hold of his wand but was not surprised that she could bring out the wands full potential like he could, nor bothered that the wand had been used for perhaps the first time in hundreds of years by a muggleborn.

"It doesn't matter." Lucius snapped, not wanting to think about her, it almost stung him to do so. "Just fix it." He asked with a sigh as he turned to leave with the cane, stopping when he felt something etched faintly into the wood.

He recognised the rune, 'Be Strong' it said.

And he almost fell to his knees that he hadn't been.

* * *

**A Tale of Friendship**

When Hermione thought of her closest friends, those most important to her in her life, several faces would appear. Harry and Ron of course, her parents, Professor McGonagall, Luna, Neville, Ginny, and unsurprisingly, Viktor, but there was one other who seemingly did not belong, yet no matter how hard she tried to dismiss him, he was always there. Lucius Malfoy.

From her first year of being part of the wizarding world, the first year of her true life, Lucius Malfoy had been of interest to her, a mystery that could potentially be solved. Then, she'd actually met him, seen two different versions of him within hours, and thus started her acquaintance with Lucius Malfoy the figure and, what she hoped, was Lucius Malfoy the man.

Perhaps it was this hope that had allowed her to look past his actions, his prejudice, and it was then that in her mind, unintentionally, he had started to become a friend. Not a friend in the ordinary sense, but more like the friendship you make with a character in a book, strong, reliable, and surreal.

* * *

Lucius would start thinking of her idly for no particular reason, sometimes pondering on the predicament she presented, what with her incredible talent at all things magic, her ability to outdo even his own pureblood son, it defied everything he had ever been taught.

After he finally met her for the first time in Flourish and Blotts, she no longer was mudblood, she was Hermione.

The book she had given him that day he'd read himself as a child, it had been a favourite of his, and he couldn't help but read it again once he had it. It had struck him, made him feel uncomfortable, for it reminded him of his own struggles, yet for him, he had never been able to do what the character in the book had, and he was pleased that someone, Hermione, had reminded him.

Maybe it was that which had driven him to find that special copy for her, the only way he could possibly think to show her that he was grateful for what she had done, to show how much, strangely, it had hurt him to hear that she had almost lost her life to his actions that year.

* * *

The book Lucius had given her was something Hermione always kept close, one of those possessions you would grab first if you had to run from a fire, a solace when she was sad.

And she knew it was because it was from him.

* * *

It was when Lucius had seen Hermione at the world cup that he fully realised what she seemed to suddenly mean to him, although, reflecting on it, it did not seem that sudden at all.

He had very almost smiled seeing her up there on the steps at the World Cup, it was as if he was seeing a best friend, long lost, one whom he could truly be himself around. To anyone else, and in fact, even to himself, it seemed preposterous, completely unbelievable, and yet, it was true.

It should have bothered him more, that this muggleborn had helped to thwart some of his own plans, outshone almost every pureblood witch and wizard she encountered, and even had the audacity to stand up to him, Lucius Malfoy, but it didn't seem to matter.

Hermione Granger was truly and amazing witch, and no matter how much Lucius wanted to hate himself for thinking highly of a muggleborn, he simply could not.

* * *

Then came the first true test.

When Hermione had run into a masked Lucius at the Quidditch World Cup, half of her head told her to run, to flee from this monster who hated her kind, and the other felt safer than she had been running with the Weasleys.

She was with Lucius, no harm could come to her now.

* * *

Lucius' breath had caught and his heart had raced when he saw her that night, and it was with mild surprise that he realised he was scared, scared of what might happen to her.

His first instinct was to protect, he had an abnormally strong urge to disapparate with her from the grounds right then and there, but rational thought won out.

He had told her to run and hoped that she would be alright, was relieved to hear the next day that she had been as he was sure word of her death would have been reported on.

It was only later that Lucius realised she may have recognised him, could expose him, but he didn't start to worry, part of him knew that she wouldn't tell a soul.

* * *

Hermione could barely subdue her smile, not even caring when she walked through the common room and saw Harry looking most bewildered at her chipper expression considering the way they had parted ways earlier.

That night, on that bridge, for the first time, it had truly been all him. Her Lucius. The one who doubted his convictions, the one who showed kindness, the one who understood.

* * *

Before Lucius left the grounds that night he had to persuade himself out of going to hex whoever had made Hermione feel that way. He knew she had gone to the ball with Krum, Draco had been complaining about Viktor sullying the pureblood name and Lucius had, for once, paid attention to his sons rant upon hearing her name.

For some reason he couldn't comprehend, Lucius didn't like the idea of Hermione with Krum, but part of him knew that the Bulgarian seeker was not likely the one to blame, no, it must have been that awful Weasley.

Alas, he could do nothing now, but perhaps, if he was patient, he'd get his revenge one day.

* * *

That night in the department of mysteries, Lucius had, in a way, condemned himself.

When they all scattered and hell broke loose, he knew he should have gone after Potter, that was the mission, but something strong made him go to her instead. He had to make sure Hermione was safe.

He was on Harry's trail when he saw her, being backed into a dead end by Rodolphus, alone, trying valiantly to protect herself from one of the Dark Lords best.

Lucius didn't even seem to have to think, he stunned his ally, rushing to her side to hide her from Bellatrix who he knew wasn't far behind, and he couldn't help but feel relieved that his precious girl was okay.

* * *

Azkaban had changed him, what he knew his failure had done to his family had changed him, and maybe that was why, this time, it was so much harder to save her…

* * *

**Malfoy Manor**

Hermione was so scared about where they were being taken, but almost broke down when she recognised where she was.

Not here. Not to his house. Not to him.

Her heart almost shattered when her eyes fixed on him.

Lucius was a shadow of his former self, stripped back to his weakest, darkest parts.

He seemed to flinch when he saw her, turning his back and downing what must have been fire whiskey.

He asked if Draco recognised them even though Hermione knew he saw who she was, and at first it hurt, but then she remembered one of the things she knew for certain about him. Lucius Malfoy would do almost anything to protect his family, and right now, that would mean handing her and her friends over to Voldemort.

Suddenly Bellatrix snapped, screaming orders to take Harry and Ron away, and Hermione was pushed to the ground, a wand jabbing into her neck.

It hurt, she wanted to die, and it was as if her blood was burning within her, but looking at Lucius, seeing him turn his back on her, was worse. He had become the one thing anchoring her to this world and yet also the one thing making her want to leave it forever.

The pain didn't seem to stop, she became delirious, it consumed her, it felt as if this torture was the only part of her existence. Finally, finally, it subsided, and she lay dazed on the floor, vaguely registering Bellatrix interrogating a goblin.

Hermione fixed her eyes on Lucius, trying to cling to consciousness, trying to distract herself from the gashes in her arm, all she could do was focus on that platinum beacon of light.

* * *

Lucius felt paralysed.

This was it, the act that might save his family from the Dark Lords' wrath, finally redeem them. They had potter, he was certain of it, and Lucius was sure that they could have just handed him over alone and somehow persuaded Voldemort to let them keep Hermione as a reward, lied that they could use a mudblood slave, someone to torture.

But no, something had gone wrong, Bellatrix had lost it, and it had all gone wrong.

The first time Hermione screamed he very almost killed his sister-in-law on the spot, but looking at Narcissa and Draco in the corner stopped him. They looked scared, just as scared as he was, and he knew the Dark Lord was coming, it was too late now, if he let Hermione go he would doom them all.

That didn't stop it hurting him though, but he couldn't bring himself to leave, wouldn't physically run away like the coward he was. Her screams seemed to be never ending, he knew he would never forget those screams, and when they finally stopped he almost let out a sob of relief.

Lucius could feel her eyes on him and he was almost too scared to turn to meet them, so ashamed that he had simply turned his back.

* * *

Lucius seemed to be physically shaking but turned to face her, and she was sure she could see his eyes glistening, saw him recoil when he noticed her arm. He glanced to Bellatrix, then to his family, and suddenly his wand was in his hand.

Hermione shrunk back slightly, fearing he would hurt her, her trust in him broken, and he flinched at her reaction to him. She saw his lips move, silently casting an incantation, and she could feel a warm sensation in her arm, the cuts not disappearing, but she knew it was a scarring prevention spell, had read about them in third year.

It warmed her inside too, gave her a slight glimpse of hope, Lucius still cared, and so did she. She would be strong, she would be able to get through this like she always did.

* * *

Bellatrix had finished with the goblin but she seemed unconvinced, menacingly turning towards Hermione again, a crazed look in her eyes.

"Still with us are you?" She asked as her wand twitched in her hand. "I'm sure we can remedy that…"

Hermione looked to him, a pleading in her eyes, and this time he could not do it, he couldn't let her feel that pain again. Narcissa and Draco weren't here anymore, he could lie, say Hermione had stunned Bellatrix herself somehow, hold her as his personal prisoner until the Dark Lord got here.

* * *

Hermione saw Lucius ready his wand, began stalking towards Bellatrix and she advanced on her once more, and it filled her with relief.

Suddenly the doors flung open and Harry and Ron were there, all hell breaking loose in their wake.

As they left with Dobby, she shuddered to think what was going to happen to Lucius now, to Draco and Narcissa, when Voldemort got there…

* * *

Lucius was in more physical pain than he had ever been in his life, but still felt better than he had for at least the last year.

Draco and Narcissa had been spared this torture, the Dark Lord dismissing them in a rage and focusing his wrath on Bellatrix and himself, and Hermione had escaped.

He would get through this, he would keep trying to protect his family, and he would hope that Hermione would be able to help kill the Dark Lo-, no, Voldemort, before it was too late.

* * *

**The Battle of Hogwarts**

When Hermione saw Lucius, hand in hand with this wife, begging their son to come to their side in the courtyard at Hogwarts, she knew she must not be the only one who understood that man. It was plain to see how scared he was, how much he wanted to protect

his son, how little choice he had ever had on which side he would be stood with when this day came.

She almost wanted to outstretch her hand to him, call his family over to them, pull Draco back, but knew she couldn't, knew they would all be killed on the spot if they didn't stay with Voldemort.

It made her want to end the madman all the more.

* * *

The battle was on again and Hermione was struggling, facing three of the dwindling enemy forces at once by herself, and yet again found herself backed into something, but this time, it was not a wall.

A hard back hit her own, and she hoped that it was someone from her own side.

It was not.

But they killed all three of the men she was fighting instantly anyway.

* * *

Lucius was not going to let her down this time, he was going to make sure she was safe.

He knew Draco and Narcissa were fine, were being protected by their new allies, ones who they would not have to fear death from, but he'd told them he had something he had to do, that his fighting skills were needed elsewhere.

Hermione and he fought alongside each other until the battle was over, skilfully taking down anyone who came at them, working together as if they had been doing it for years. In many ways, it was if they had.

* * *

**The Great Hall**

Hermione sat with the Weasleys, her friends, as they all mourned their losses, the relief of winning tainted by so much pain.

She saw the Malfoys, sitting uncomfortably in the hall with everyone else, huddled together, looking so vulnerable, so unsure.

Everyone avoided them, some people clearly struggling to restrain themselves from attacking Lucius right then and there, but she suspected they all realised what she had long ago. The Malfoys were just another family who needed to be freed from Voldemort's oppression, perhaps more than most.

Hermione could not stop herself, she had to show them that, at least by her, they would not be shunned. She would show everyone that muggleborn and pureblood could put aside their differences, it was the only way the wizarding world would be able to move on from this.

She walked bravely towards them, head held high, ignoring the strange, sometimes venomous, looks people were sending her way.

Narcissa was the one who noticed her approach first, standing to meet her.

"Thank you." She said somberly but with a smile. "Draco told us what you did for him."

"What you did for us." Lucius interjected, eyes lighting up as he saw her.

"I'm so sorry for-" Narcissa started, trying to apologise for the night at the Manor no doubt.

"It's alright." Hermione interjected. "I understand." She said, looking at Draco whose head was still in his hands, seeming to shake slightly.

Narcissa nodded with another small smile, returning to sit next to Draco, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him close.

She and Lucius stood together in silence for a small while, neither knowing quite what to say, until they seemed to silently agree to walk through the hall and out into the open air.

"It's gone you know." Hermione said, breaking the silence.

"What is?" Lucius asked, confused.

"The word Bellatrix wrote in my arm…mud-"

"Don't say it." He cut in, taking her hand. "I never want you to hear that word again Hermione, least of all from your own lips."

Before she could fight the urge, her arms were around his waist, pulling him into a hug. It made her feel so safe, so happy, the full effect and realisation of their victory finally sinking in as she held Lucius for the very first time.

His arms were wrapped tightly around her in seconds, his chin resting against her head.

"Thank you Hermione. You have saved me in every way I could have been saved." Lucius said, pulling her closer, as if he was scared she might leave.

"You saved me too." She whispered, trying not to cry like she'd wanted to since she left the Manor that night, finally feeling free to feel weak for once.

"Only from myself." He said with a dark, dry laugh. "I could have prevented those things from happening to you, if only I'd-"

"It won't do to look to the past, Lucius." Hermione said, pulling back to look into his stormy grey eyes.

"You're free now Lucius, free to choose what will be in your future, what path you will take." She told him with a smile.

"And I'll always be there to show you the light."

* * *

**Epilogue**

Lucius had a trial, as was expected, but, with Hermione's testimony, he did not have to return to Azkaban, and instead focused most of his money and time into restoring Hogwarts and the Malfoy Estate to their former glory.

After returning to Hogwarts to finish (and ace, of course) all her NEWTS, Hermione joined the Ministry, and with lots of advice from Lucius, quickly worked her way up the political ladder, creating many important and necessary new laws.

Draco went travelling, deciding he would become the next Severus Snape, and planned to become just as brave, and just as good as potions.

Narcissa and Lucius divorced, finally feeling free to do what they wanted after decades of being trapped, their marriage something with too many bad memories to last.

Hermione and Lucius became the friends they felt they had become over the years and one day, on the fifth anniversary of Voldemort's downfall, stood on their bridge at Hogwarts, getting away from the busy celebration inside.

"Did you ever meet him?" Asked Lucius idly, remembering a conversation from years ago, had in that very spot.

"Who?" Hermione asked casually, the corner of her lips turning up slightly.

"A man who's worthy of you?" He clarified.

Hermione laughed, her beautiful laugh that he had come to love.

"What's so funny?" He asked, truly perplexed.

"Oh, Lucius." She smiled as she put her arm through his.

"I met him a long time ago, in Flourish and Blotts, he was kind, and intelligent, and he took stole my heart without me even realising it."

Lucius frowned, obviously confused, looking a little jealous even.

"Okay, maybe he's not as intelligent as I thought." Hermione teased. "He's also much braver than he thinks he is, and I know for certain that I wouldn't be here without him." She said as she pulled herself closer to him.

Realisation finally seemed to dawn on him, his eyebrows raising as he smiled, turning to lightly kiss her lips.

"And he wouldn't be here without you." He said, kissing her again. "He'd still be trapped, and weak, and oh, so very lost."


End file.
